Thursday, 19 February 2015

The Philharmonia has started its Paris: City of Light season
1900-50. A busy period in music and in history. Under Esa-Pekka Salonen, three works: two by Ravel and one by
Stravinsky brought some of this to life.

The Ravel Mother Goose scenes steps through a delightful
sequence of scenes; by the end of it coming to a superb climax.

The Piano Concerto for the Left Hand is a tough gig.
Pierre-Laurent Aimard’s rendition glittered most All the more poignant for its
composition history. It was written for Wittgenstein’s pianist brother who lost
his right hand in the First World War. One hand in 19 minutes seems to do as
much work as two hands might in a might longer piece.

The Firebird makes only limited sense without the dancing. But
the music on its own is beautiful.

This was an exciting programme and the orchestra were on
top-form again after a slight disappointment last time. Great choices, fine conducting and an
excellent soloist.

Thursday, 12 February 2015

Yesterday’s FT had
an extraordinary headline: “Former IMF Chief too busy ‘saving world’ to attend
many orgies’. I suspect DSK wouldn’t fare well as the Dutchman with the chance
to woo only every seven years. But this
is the Dutchman’s predicament. Bryn Terfel returns, not quite alive and not
quite dead. A sort of nautical Nick Clegg, who seeks only to be put out of his
misery. He couldn’t believe his luck in finding Senta. I couldn’t believe mine
in a cheap last minute ticket for the stalls with a decent view. Nelsons must
empathize with all the maritime roaming as he dashes across the Atlantic
between Boston and Birmingham.

Senta is caught between the between the devil and the deep
blue sea. Not quite literally, but almost. It is a choice between heading off
with the Dutchman or handing him to be tormented by the devil. And a hellish
choice it is too. Adrianne Pieczonka fills out this role wonderfully, and makes
it her own.

Bryn is
a superb singer, on good form in a role he does well. This was a great performance.
Kaufmann’s towering voice three weeks ago filled that space in a gobsmacking
way. it was only fully apparent now. It was worth the admission just for this.

The very first recording of an opera I purchased was
Karajan’s Dutchman; other recordings
have yet to supplant this well-paced spooky production from 1984 in my library.
Anyone can get the overture right –(it is one of Wagner’s overtures which
probably works on its own as part of an orchestral concert – however these
things only whet the appetite in my mind). The third act is often the problem:
look here to test a conductor’s mettle, the sense they make of it, it is here
that you ought to look for coherence if nothing else. If, as this production
does, it is the 1843 version, then it is to this you might look. And yet here
it was that it unravelled a bit.

The original performance got a lukewarm response. Schumann
loved it but reckoned the public weren’t ready, preferring ‘glittering
processions, splendid scenery and groupings, and imposing action coupled with
brilliant music’. The Andrea Chénier
I saw last month probably fits into this category,and no less a delight for it. This evening got a slightly odd response – the
whole thing seemed slightly out of control in the final scenes. Ed Lyon’s
Steersman was vocally-electric, and did so much to set the scene at the start –
his presence and voice matched the intensity of the overture. So why on earth
was he thrashing about in the water at the front of the stage? It took away from the thrill of the appearance of the ghostly crew. Much of the
sometime-modern production was clean, pared and provided the climate in which
Wagner’s music-dramas generally go best in my modest experience.

It hasn’t been seven years since I last heard an orchestra
under Nelson lift the Dutchman’s ship up to heaven. A concert performance with
the CBSO was orchestrally more thrilling. The ascent then was unmistakable,
transcendent. Tonight, the denouement seemed slightly off-kilter. It needed a
smidge more rehearsal. Or maybe an interval. Or something. Overall, the singing was superb. The music was wonderful,
textured and balanced –that Wagnerian trick of lots of musicians making very
little noise oscillating to a lot of noise without being gimmicky. The
production was generally good. The spinning scene was smashing: the a large bank
of sewing machines came down with individual . With ropes, chains, pull
switches for lights, there were a lot of fleeting connexions in the dark. But something
wasn’t quite right. Erik was not as distraught as I expected. If he says “oh
well” and heads off down the pub, the wretchedness of Senta’s position is
undermined. The earlier score is considered to provide greater scope for a
tragic ending. So this all played out a bit oddly. Rather than leaping on the lowered gantry as
might have been expected, Sentra grabbed, fell and then cradled the model boat.
This made things more ambiguous, confusing the ending. Somehow it seemed she
had resolved to save the Dutchman but it was not clear if she had succeeded. It
may take a cinema relay to get my head around this. There are many Wagner
strands here: leitmotifs, erotic(ish) love death(ish),

There was a lot to like in this production: the effects with
overture elevated its expansive whole.

Overall, great singing, very good music, but something was
slightly unsettled in it at the end.